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Sex and Ice Cream

A day off!  For most of the day, Melanie had no idea what to do with herself.  The blonde felt lazy, bored, and horny. She paused as she stared at the clock.  She was hungry, too.  Hungry for something sweet and cold, and not too hard to get.

Finally, she pried herself from her bed and pulled on some comfortable clothes– a hoodie on top of nothing, some underwear, a miniskirt, and a pair of fun, clompy boots that had shiny buckles.  It still felt like dressing was too much work, but the nice police men hated for her to do as she liked in public. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on June 4, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

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Vincent Vance (Part II)

Continued from Vincent Vance.

It was two years after the worst year of his life, and the only time he was happy was during the government-required summer camp that lasted all of one month out of twelve.  He had friends there, and he felt that at camp, people approved of him.  He was often quiet and stayed to himself, but one older girl had broken through part of his barriers, and he often refused to leave her side.

He even left his own mother in the dust to be with the girl called Mellie, and at camp, he insisted that his name was not Vincent, but Vinnie– to match his best friend. Read the rest of this entry »

 

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Vincent Vance

Everywhere he looked, Vincent saw that normal humans like his father were rare.  Almost everyone was like his mother– a race called demis.  The demis were a race of semi-divinities with lengthened life spans, an element they could get killed by to give them a third form, and a realm, which gave them a second form and that controlled their lives.

Many of the realms were considered “common”, like grief, happiness, love– the emotional spectrum, and a few others, like children and sex.  Some concretes, elements, and ideas as realms were much more rare.  Magic, mad science, fire– just a few of the realms that were under government protection for the sake of keeping the world from losing its so-precious balance. Read the rest of this entry »

 

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Shining Cherries

Vomit with a topping of blood was the start of Alec’s day. He felt miserable, with a burning, sore throat and tears in his eyes. His puke clung to his lips as he rinsed it off. At least the blood didn’t come from the same place as his upchuck. He splashed water on his nose and washed it vigorously.

A finger shot up the offending nostril, and came out mostly clean. It was good enough. Alec spat into the sink. It was still orange. He wrinkled his nose with distaste. Mornings were so fucking terrible. Every damned day was the same. Clogged nose, vomit, nosebleeds, and so much piss every morning, he swore he was a horse.

Being mortal was horrible. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on March 27, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

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